It Happened One Night
by ShannonSto
Summary: GS. Very short fluffy thing I needed to get out of my system.


**A/N**:  This is so short, meaningless, fluffy and implausible that I hesitated to even post it. But, here it is.  I needed to give myself a fluff break.

**Disclaimer**:  I own absolutely nothing—except two cats.  You want 'em?

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Gil Grissom leaned on his desk, his body aching with exhaustion.  He was many long hours into a double shift and it had begun to take its toll.  The tick of his wall clock informed him that it was now one in the morning.  Grissom was quite accustomed to working at one in the morning, but he usually had slept during the day rather than coming in to help day shift with a particularly difficult case.  His body just didn't handle these shifts the way it used to.

At least he could take a nap, he decided.  The DNA was running and results were not yet on the horizon.  The interview with the victim's neighbor wasn't until six.  There was definitely time for a nap, and he reasoned that if anyone needed him, they knew where to find him.  Switching off the overhead lights, he settled for the more soothing dim light of his desktop reading lamp.  

Sara opened the office door just a crack, peeking in to see if Grissom was present.  It was now two-thirty, and she guessed he would be catching up on paperwork before his interrogation.  She was a bit surprised to see him curled up on the small couch along the far wall.   Loathing the prospect of waking him, she considered returning later, but she knew she really needed the Schmitz file in order to finish her report.

She painstakingly closed the door behind her, careful not to allow it to make a sound, and moved stealthily across the room in the near-darkness.  When she reached the desk, she turned to look at Grissom.  He was adorable, his features relaxed in sleep.  The years seemed to have melted off of him.  _No snoring_. _Good to know_, she thought.  _Yeah, right. As if you'll ever need to know that._  Grinning, she shook her head to clear the forbidden images from her mind.

Turning her attention back to the task at hand, she spotted the file at the top of the pile.  Her arm snaked out to retrieve it.  Before she knew what was happening, Grissom's nearly full coffee mug tumbled to the floor, breaking into several pieces and spilling the brown liquid all over the tile.  With a gasp, she spun around to look at Grissom.

Grissom woke with a start.  He squinted drowsily and moved to a sitting position.  "Hi," he mumbled, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"I am so sorry," Sara apologized with vigor. "I just needed this file. I was trying so hard to be quiet and—"

"It's okay," he reassured her, still groggy.

"Damn! I broke your cup. I'm so sorry," she repeated.

"It's not mine anyway.  I've had it for so many years I've forgotten who I inadvertently stole it from."

"You? Steal? I don't think so."

"Look at it closely."

She picked up the largest chunk of the coffee mug and was able to discern the words _World's Greatest Dad_.  Her eyebrow rose playfully, "Stop, thief!"

Grissom yawned and scratched his head.  "See?"

"You know, theoretically this could still apply someday," Sara grinned, pointing to the text on the mug.

"Theoretically, Greg could still be President someday.  Now that I think about it, that actually seems more likely."

"Geez, what a mess…"

"There's a roll of paper towels in the bottom drawer…on the left."

Sara hesitated, "You, uh, want me to get them?"

"Unless you have some sort of academic interest in preserving the puddle."

"I was starting to think the day would never come when you would give me permission to look into your drawers," she smirked with a coy grin.  Grissom merely squinted in response.

Sara reached down to open the drawer, "Why do you have pa—eww, never mind, I probably don't want to know."  She gave him a dismissive wave and peered cautiously into the drawer, "Okay, all I see is a box of Thin Mints, and what looks like the brain of a small animal floating in a jar of formaldehyde."

"Oh, sorry. Behind that," Grissom motioned vaguely with his hand.

"Oh, yeah, here they are." Having successfully located the roll of paper towels, Sara set about sopping up the spill on the floor.

Grissom watched her with an odd curiosity.  Even in the dim light, he was able to see her far better than he had in a very long while.  She was beautiful.  Amazing, intelligent, compassionate and beautiful.  Of course, she had been right in front of him all along, he had simply chosen not to look.  

"Have you had lunch?"

"No. I have to do this report and then—"

"Take a break," Grissom interrupted.

"Huh?"

"Take a break. Let's get some lunch."

"I'm sorry…have we met?"  Sara glanced quickly from side to side, as if looking for a hidden camera.  She knew this must be some kind of a joke. Or a dream, perhaps.

"Okay," Grissom said, rising from the couch and coming to stand in front of her. "I deserved that."  He moved a little closer and applied his most disarming smile.

"Grissom, I…I really do have a report to do.  And my boss can be a slave driver."

"Ass," he corrected. "Your boss can be an ass.  But he's vowed to do better."

"He's…contradictory.  He can also be very sweet and charming when he wants to be."

"Give him another chance. Let's have lunch."

"Another chance?" though she tried to contain it, the trade marked Sara Sidle Gap-Toothed Grin took up residence on her face.  "Okay, but he better not blow it."

"He won't," Grissom said softly, leading her out of the office. "He won't…"

  
The end.


End file.
